Notes

9 tracks

2 comments on Winter of Our Contentedness

im telling you...
i at least got enough for this cup of hot water, what the f(x) is this letter The. eye. me and my. i me me me me mine. am babies, and am writing, for a class surpassed only in breadth by the girth of an argument trying to swallow the whole hog in only 6paragraphs.
Oh rite. the boom is like dangerous. the room is obtuse full of angles reflecting back absurd insights, about the way it curves around a corner so tight. is nice, no i mean Nice. i mean on the beach, reaching into the cooler, your booty lined up in 'em strange sailor stripes, rummage around in the ice water feels _. i dont know like i messed up the meter and dropped the southern drawls, all over all, to reveal, a strange countryman line dancing at the surf receeding. if i was to be believed. i'd promise you simple franco-anglais, simply cause, casual casuation is the hearld of the buck making. salt water into an esturary walk further. i mean flow, what damage how much time too bad... was spent in the word?
I am sure you've seen akin as me ion, before. growling like cross continental cultural refrences. A pride full eaten two elk. wretched ilk the bummer silt, stop dancing the salmon of the tributariy damn dancer erring in the motion, divine.
red bearing upon west, the sun i confess i saw idols idly laying beams only at 6am this machine. box spit type what i write ripe of plucking tea from hillsides so foregin as to be obsolete. realizing now i've no safety net of blue water beneath me to catch my grammatical errors as i fall. through eros pierced though the agaping mouth saying intent to storge all inferences of mispeak greek at a disco, nervous like a rabbit, in a fenced in lettuce patch. ima shake some cabbage at that, weird romance of the coin. i know for a couple mls more ill feel like a dollar bill or six (as long as the faces right) could get my heart slick, at least in part, because, blood beat, beat beat like the drum through an instrument come. i swear i didnt intend to remember the party in the first place, i mean shit the dancefloor was practically dead, devoid of disco dancers. sigh. nevermind. forget it.